The Competition
by Anonymoustache
Summary: Scotland Yard is holding a dance competition to raise money for charity, and Lestrade and his crew have roped Sherlock and John into it. Both the detective and his blogger are less than happy, until things at the competition take a very interesting turn…Eventual Johnlock, some suggestive content.
1. Go Get 'Em, Tiger

The posters appear almost overnight.

The funny thing is, Sherlock isn't the first one to notice it. It's John.

John stops in front of one just outside Scotland Yard's main doors, eyes widening as he takes in the information on it. Sherlock, of course, keeps walking, everything but the case unimportant.

John frowns. "Sherlock…"

Sherlock sighs impatiently. "John, the case!"

John shakes his head. "No, seriously…what is this?" He gestures to the poster in front of him.

Sherlock rolls his eyes and steps over, reading the poster. "What is…" his sentence trails off as he takes in the information on the large, brightly coloured piece of paper in front of him.

It's an advertisement for a dance competition. At Scotland Yard.

And his and John's names are on it.

* * *

"What the hell is this?"

Sherlock shoves the poster into Greg's face, eyes sparking. John is standing nearby, arms crossed in front of his chest.

Greg nods apprehensively. "Yeah, about that, I was going to…"

Sherlock cuts him off angrily. "I absolutely refuse to get up there and make a fool of myself in front of a dozen odd people with you idiots!"

He sighs. "Sherlock, it's for charity, you practically work here anyways so I didn't think you'd mind…"

"Mind?" Sherlock splutters. "Of course I mind! Do you think I want to…to…"

"To what?" says a snarky female voice. Sally Donovan appears from around the corner. "To throw those gangly limbs around for people to gawk at?"

Sherlock looks at her as his mouth falls open in shock, offended. He closes it with a snap and gives her an icy look. "Unlike some people, Donovan, I actually know how to keep control over my body."

It's Donovan's turn to splutter. "Why, I…"

Greg holds up a hand. "Save it, Sally." He turns to Sherlock as Sally stalks off. "Sherlock, it's just one time, and it's for a good cause, okay? It's just

going to be a small crowd, not a gigantic thing."

Sherlock lets out a huff of breath and turns around to pace back and forth, thinking. Finally, he turns to Greg. "It's only once, right?"

Greg nods solemnly.

"Who's participating?"

Greg sighs and begins to tick off names on his fingers. "Me, Sally, Philip…"

Sherlock cuts him off, wrinkling his nose. "Who the hell is Philip?"

Greg rolls his eyes. "Anderson, Sherlock."

Sherlock makes a little noise of disgust and closes his eyes, thinking. "Go on."

Greg continues. "Uh…George-that's Dimmock," he says, seeing Sherlock's mouth open and sensing an incoming query, "Molly, Mycroft…"

Sherlock looks outraged. "My brother?"

"How many other Mycrofts do you know?"

Sherlock sighs loudly. "Go on."

Greg thinks. "Well, then there's me, and you, and John. That's it."

John starts. "Wha-me?"

"Your name is on the poster, John, do try and keep up," Sherlock says snarkily, and he closes his eyes again.

John turns to Greg, shaking his head. "No way. Absolutely not." His voice is slightly panicky. "For God's sake, Greg…I don't even dance!"

Greg sighs. He didn't think convincing the two of them would be this difficult.

"It's just one dance, John. Just follow the little figure and you'll be fine."

* * *

John and Sherlock arrive an hour early at the auditorium where the dance competition is being held to see far more cars than they thought they'd see.

"Jesus," John says, tugging at the collar of his coat uncomfortably. "I thought Greg said this was going to be a small gathering!"

"Apparently he was mistaken," Sherlock says, lips spread in a thin line. He leads John around to the back door entrance, as there are already several

people packed near the door waiting to be let in.

Greg looks up as they walk into the small prep room at the back of the auditorium. "Hey, you two."

"Greg, you bastard, I thought you said it was going to be a small crowd," John says, glaring at him as he gestures to the door. "That mob out there definitely doesn't count!"

Greg shrugs. "So I misjudged. Apparently the idea of all of us throwing our arms about on a stage appeals to more people than I thought." He grins as he walks away, heading towards the donut table.

Sherlock sighs and pulls off his coat, throwing it over a bar near the door. He holds out his hand for John's as the doctor strips it off.

The detective straightens his black jacket and looks over at John. "Are you ready for this?"

John laughs. "No."

Sherlock grins. "Me neither."

* * *

An hour later, the chief superintendent is up on stage, ready to begin the show.

"Good evening, everyone! We're all very glad to see you tonight…"

Sherlock looks over at John from where they're sitting in the front row and grins. They're both having the same thought, he's sure.

A few moments later, after a small speech about the charity they're raising money for, he finally introduces the first competition.

"And our first match for the A bracket will be…" There's a shuffling of papers and the superintendent looks down at his schedule. "Miss Molly Hooper versus Sergeant Sally Donovan in Just Dance!"

There's a round of applause and then Molly and Sally are onstage in front of them. The setup is fairly simple, but well thought out; a telly in front of them shows them the dance they're supposed to be doing, while a projector on a shelf above it projects the dance onto the curtain behind them. The telly is right in between them, so that you can still see the dancers themselves.

Sherlock has to admit, it's been well thought out.

The dance itself is fairly basic, and neither Sherlock nor John really pays attention to what the women onstage are doing. However, it's clear after the first minute that Sally has no business mocking Sherlock's limbs when she isn't too brilliant with her own.

At the end, when Molly has won, everyone claps loudly, accompanied with a few wolf whistles from some of the men, especially, it seems, Dimmock.

He winks at Molly, and she blushes.

"They're dating."

John looks over at Sherlock. "What?"

"Molly and Dimmock."

"Oh." John nods.

The superintendent comes back out as Sally and Molly head back to their respective seats. "Well, that was quite a match, ladies!"

Sherlock rolls his eyes as the superintendent congratulates Molly. "He's a pervert."

John's eyes go wide and he looks over at Sherlock. "What?"

Sherlock jerks his eyeballs at the superintendent. "He only volunteered to do this so that he could sit backstage and watch their posteriors."

John tries desperately to turn his giggle into a manly cough.

Up on the stage, the superintendent looks down at his schedule. "And next we have Inspector George Dimmock versus Dr. John Watson in…Pound The Alarm!"

John's giggles immediately dissipate and he chokes instead.

Next to him, Greg gives him a slap on the back and a grin. "Go get 'em, tiger."


	2. So He Told Himself

A few moments later, John finds himself on a stage with no idea of what to do.

The superintendent steps off and the lights go down, two spotlights on him and Dimmock just as they were for Molly and Sally.

John looks at the screen to the right of him as it springs to life. There's a small figure in the bottom corner that's approaching the middle with arrows pointing out to its sides.

He remembers the advice Greg gave him just as the figure reaches the middle.

_Just follow the little figure and you'll be fine._

John throws his arms out to his sides and sees a burst of gold stars over the left corner of the screen.

Another figure approaches, this one with the arrows pointing towards the sky. There's one directly after it with the arrows winding down, each in a half circle. As each one reaches the middle, John does what it says, feeling his hips start to sway to the beat of the music. The crowd cheers as burst after burst of stars erupt at the top of his screen.

After that, it's easy. John is surprised by his ability, actually…he hasn't danced like this since uni.

The end seems to come fairly quickly, and when John looks up, sweaty from exertion, he's shocked to see a small crown on his side of the screen.

* * *

Sherlock stares as John walks up to the stage with Dimmock.

_Poor John._

John stands up there, body tense, as the lights go down and the screen flashes to life. He stares at the screen, looking a bit nervous.

However, after a moment something in his face changes.

Determination, maybe?

But Sherlock has no time to reflect on it, because John has suddenly come to life. He hits the first move with astonishing perfection, and every move after that is the same; a fluid grace that almost seems natural. The crowd goes wild as John's screen explodes with stars as he executes each move.

However, Sherlock can't cheer. He's too busy wondering where this dance genius came from.

* * *

The superintendent comes out onto the stage as John and Dimmock both head back to their seats, sweaty and grinning.

"Well, that was quite a match!" he says, almost as out of breath as they are. "Quite indeed…well, congratulations, Dr. Watson!"

The crowd cheers again and John grins as he sits back down next to Sherlock.

The superintendent looks at his lists, pulling at his collar, as Sherlock leans over to John.

"Good job."

John grins. "No idea what I was doing, but thanks."

"He's gay."

John looks at him, confused. "What?"

"The superintendent." Sherlock sniffs and his face forms into a familiar pout. "He was staring at your arse."

John raises his eyebrows, almost laughing. He sits back, then looks at Sherlock and grins. "You jealous?"

Sherlock splutters, but doesn't get a chance to respond as the superintendent begins to speak.

"And for the B bracket, our first match will be…" he looks down at his list and then looks back up, grinning. "Inspector Greg Lestrade versus Mr. Mycroft Holmes in…Get Lucky!"

Sherlock groans while the audience cheers and wolf whistles as Greg and Mycroft ascend the stage.

"Cover your eyes, Mycroft's fat jiggling is enough to blind anyone," he whispers to John in a long-suffering voice.

John rolls his eyes. "I think we'll be fine, Sherlock."

"We should warn the others."

"Move from that chair and you're dead."

Greg and Mycroft take their places on the stage as the lights go down and the screen comes on, music starting.

"God, it's bad enough that they're dating," Sherlock whispers to John as the two begin to dance, "but now we have to watch them grind on each other?"

John almost chokes. "They're _dating_?"

Sherlock nods sourly as Greg does a particularly tricky move that involves moving behind Mycroft's back and doing something that looks suspiciously like a sexual maneuver. "I thought it was fairly obvious."

After several torturous minutes, the dance ends with Greg as the victor, Mycroft slumping over in exhaustion.

"Of course," Sherlock says snarkily, "He hasn't moved his fat arse out from behind his desk since 1983."

John elbows him. "Be nice."

The superintendent comes out and congratulates Greg heartily as the two go to sit down, Greg supporting Mycroft slightly and trying not to grin.

John leans over. "Let me guess…he was staring at Greg's arse too."

Sherlock nods, rolling his eyes. "Righto. You really are catching onto this deducing thing, aren't you?"

"You don't have to be sarcastic."

The superintendent coughs and shuffles his papers, face red and grinning. He looks up. "For our next match, we'll have Mr. Sherlock Holmes versus Sergeant Phillip Anderson in Maria."

Sherlock groans and hides his face in John's shoulder as the crowd cheers. "Hide me."

John blushes and shoves him off. "Get up there and dance, you great lanky git."

Sherlock grimaces at him and walks up to the stage, followed closely by Anderson. They both take their places as the lights go down and the screen lights up.

John doesn't know what he was expecting when Sherlock went up to dance, but he certainly wasn't expecting a fucking dance master.

Sherlock, despite his long and lanky limbs, is the best dancer anyone had seen all evening. He executes each move with a perfect grace that shocks everyone, including Anderson, who stops for a moment in shock and falls behind, almost guaranteeing Sherlock a win.

John watches, mesmerized, as Sherlock perfects each move, sliding across the stage with an almost natural grace, as if he's been doing this all his life. Halfway through, he executes a perfect hip thrust that had everyone in the audience cheering and John questioning his sexuality.

But only a little bit.

Or so he told himself.


	3. If One Had Looked Closely

The song ends with Sherlock far in the lead, having not missed a single move. Anderson, on the other hand, is about on the same dance level as Sally, though slightly better than Mycroft.

The superintendent comes onto the stage again as the crowd cheers and issues his congratulations to Sherlock, pulling at his collar again and, unless John's eyes were deceiving him, almost leering at Sherlock's arse.

John feels a strange sting in his chest that he isn't quite able to explain as Sherlock sits back down in the chair next to him with all the grace of a Siamese cat.

The superintendent, up on the stage, announces an intermission to give the competitors a break, and all of them head backstage for refreshments. Most of them go immediately for the water, and Mycroft is, unsurprisingly, the first one at the donuts.

Sherlock slides down the wall near the door, letting the cool air from the window wash over him. John sits down next to him, still in a slight state of shock.

"That was…wow. I didn't know you could…"

Sherlock grins as John trails off. "You didn't know I could move my 'great lanky git limbs' without knocking someone's head off?"

John rolls his eyes but smiles. "Sure."

Several minutes later, the superintendent gets up onstage and calls everyone back to their seats. The competitors file back out to sit in the front row, all except Sally and Anderson, who were last seen sneaking into a broom closet and no one really wanted to disturb them to tell them it was time to come back.

The superintendent smiles out at the audience. "Well, folks, we're coming down to the nitty-gritty of our competition. The outcome of the next two matches will determine our final match and, then, our ultimate winner."

He looks down at his paper and speaks. "Our next match will be Miss Molly Hooper, our Division 1 champion, versus Dr. John Watson, our Division 2 champion, in…Starships!"

John rolls his eyes as he stands up. "Christ…Nicki Minaj again?"

He heads up to the stage with Molly and they take their respective places as the familiar dimming of the lights takes place. The music starts, a short introduction giving them a moment to collect themselves, and then it begins.

Surprisingly, John is just as good as he was before, if not better. He follows each move exactly, hips snapping with the music.

Greg leans over to Sherlock as the song progresses and the crowd cheers, almost having to yell because of the noise. "He may not have known what he was doing the first time around, but he sure does now!"

Sherlock shoots him a glare.

Greg shrugs, eyes widening innocently. "Sorry. Didn't mean to compliment your man."

Sherlock frowns. "He's not my-"

He's cut off as the song abruptly ends, the crowd erupting in applause as the crown appears over John's side. John grins, looking slightly shocked, and the lights come back on.

He and Molly head back to their seats as the superintendent once again comes onto the stage. "What a performance, ladies and gentlemen! What a performance…" He trails off and looks down at his papers, shuffling them to look at his organization bracket.

"Now, we'll have Division 3 champion Inspector Greg Lestrade versus Division 4 champion Sherlock Holmes in…That Power!"

John leans over and whispers to Sherlock as the crowd cheers, "Looks like Lestrade finally found his division."

Sherlock grins and heads up to the stage with Greg.

* * *

John watches as, once more, Sherlock ascends the stage, this time with Greg. Just like before, Sherlock does incredibly well, hip thrusts making John's trousers maybe a little tighter than before.

Greg does well too, of course, but ultimately Sherlock is the one to gain the crown. At that moment, it doesn't occur to John what this means…but it soon will.

The superintendent comes out soon after as the audience applauds, looking sweaty and even creepier than ever.

"Well, well!" he says, grinning. "Congratulations, Mr. Holmes! Good job…"

He looks down at his sheet as Sherlock and Greg head back to their seats, both grinning.

The superintendent looks up and smiles. "It appears we have our two finalists." He takes a breath, then says, "Sherlock Holmes and John Watson, dancers extraordinaire, please do us the honor of a final dance against each other…to Blurred Lines!"

A cheer goes through the crowd as John's face goes red and Sherlock's goes paper white.

Greg laughs uproariously, Mycroft grinning uncharacteristically next to him, as the two of them ascend the stage, both looking nervous and embarrassed as hell…though whether it's due to the song choice or them being against each other, no one will ever know. Greg's betting the song choice, however.

The two men take their places on the stage as the lights dim one last time and the screen blares to life. The opening chords of Blurred Lines sound, and they begin.

John feels his face getting redder with each move, desperately trying not to look at Sherlock, who is executing each hip thrust with an almost frantic accuracy.

For the first minute and a half, they stay almost exactly tied, something that hasn't happened all evening and has the audience on their toes. John soon begins to fall behind, and Sherlock turns his head to grin triumphantly at him as his pelvis thrusts almost obscenely.

John isn't going to be defeated that easily, he decides.

He begins to match Sherlock's pace quickly, hips snapping at exactly the same time Sherlock's do.

By the two minute mark, they're perfectly in sync.

By two and a half minutes, the crowd is on it's feet, screaming. They're still tied.

At three minutes, Greg's wondering if it's even possible to tie on Just Dance.

The song ends with them sliding off into the wings…_still tied_.

The crowd goes wild.

* * *

Backstage, John leans breathlessly against the wall, exhausted.

Sherlock does the same and looks over at him, face twitching.

They both burst out laughing.

John holds his side, reveling at the pure humour of the situation. He's so punch drunk on adrenaline that it seems almost natural when he leans in and presses a sloppy kiss to Sherlock's mouth.

Sherlock's eyes widen and John goes to pull back, immensely surprised at himself and a little embarrassed.

What's even more surprising is when Sherlock grabs him and kisses back.

* * *

The superintendent comes out a few moments later as the crowd's cheering slowly abates.

"What a show, ladies and gentlemen!" he exclaims, sweaty again. "Let's give it up for our two champions for tonight…Mr. Sherlock Holmes and Dr. John Watson!"

He reaches back and tugs John out onto the stage, taking Sherlock with him as they stumble out, lights almost blinding as the crowd cheers deafeningly.

John looks at Sherlock and grins, almost questioningly.

Sherlock smiles a small, triumphant smile and gives him a look that almost says, _well, if you must._

John grabs Sherlock in front of the entire crowd and plants a solid kiss on his lips.

The applause seems even more deafening after that, and right there in the front row stood Greg and Mycroft, both with knowing looks on their faces.

And, if one had looked closely, they would have seen money changing hands between the members of the New Scotland Yard police force.


End file.
